A Sonnet

I realize that the last few posts have been poetry, and I sort of apologize for that.  I don’t apologize for the poetry itself, but I do know that sometimes poetry can be sort of confusing and exclusive and I really don’t intend this blog to become a place solely for poems.  But I hope you’ll take it all in stride – my soul has been particularly heavy with words over the last week or so, and I’m glad I have this place to deposit those words.  My poetry is just as important and meaningful to me as my essay-like prose.  It’s another way I figure things out.

I am formulating one of those essay-like things in my head currently, to be up Saturday night at the latest.  My dorm is doing this thing called Confidence Week, where we don’t wear makeup and we cover the mirrors and stuff.  I, however, have taken a slightly different approach to Confidence Week – and the following poem was the start of my discovery as to where my confidence lies.  I wrote this a few days ago, after a couple days of having an artistic cold (as in, it was like my nose was all stuffed up but instead of my nose, my brain and heart were all stuffed up with words and I couldn’t figure out how to get them out).  Then, I had a particularly challenging day on Monday and the result was this poem.  The day wasn’t challenging in that it was a hard day – really, it was just a deep day.  A lot to think about.

Anyway, you’ll see that post soon.  In the meantime, I’m sharing this piece.  I was hesitant to do so – still am – because it sounds sort of dark.  But it’s not.  It’s only honest.  Don’t be afraid of something honest, because the most true stuff is usually also hard to swallow.  It’s meant to be read aloud – preferably by me – but if I’m not around, it might help to read it out loud to yourself.  I wrote it to the song Spiegel Im Spiegel, too.  It’s called A Sonnet, for various reasons.

______________________________________________________________

I am not like everyone else.An enigma but only a shrouded one.
A breath but only a gasped one.
I flirt with this world as though it meant something.
I exist like I’m important but I’m not.
What do you think when you are collapsing?
To whom do you run when no one sees you coming?
They’ve always told me that everyone was special.
So I believed that included me.
With my talents so rare and precious,
my flittering eyes begging to be caught.
You tell me what I do means something.
But I can’t place it anymore.
I thought I was a magnet
but perhaps I’m turned the wrong way.
They called me special but failed to admit that I was only just.
I am enough for my small portion –
Risk a bit, yes.
But a distance is kept that confuses me.
It goes against who I thought I was:
I thought I was a stolen breath,
a wide-eyed blessing.
But what the hell is going on?
Do I trust you all or not?
I want to come into my own.
I want to be magnificent to someone.
Don’t you get it?
There is some blackness living inside me that I don’t understand.
I am convinced both that I am alone
and that I am only one honest with the universe.
How quick broken hearts feign healing.
Are you all as mixed up as I am?
How quickly people are forgotten.
How quick we are to pretend life is normal.
I am not like everyone else,
but only because I’ve admitted it.
Break through my icy veil
so I can glimpse she who hides in the depths of my soul.
If you saw her,
would she be more than special?
Would she be the magnet people call her?
When you find her,
tell her to keep going.
Tell her she is only lost because no one will search hard enough.
She is not like everyone else,
and maybe she doesn’t need to be.

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